


Sunflower

by BelleLorage



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint and Natasha are the gayest people when they're alone, Clint calls Natasha sunflower, F/M, Kindda, Natasha calls Clint her malchik, POV Natasha Romanov, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Songfic, just the fluffiest fluff that has ever fluffed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:30:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6444577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleLorage/pseuds/BelleLorage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Take a look at this sunflower<br/>Standing so tall<br/>Isn't it pretty?<br/>It started so small<br/>But it kept growing<br/>And it never stopped"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunflower

They didn't celebrate Christmas. For her, the date was different and the meaning was lost over the years. For him, the date was the same, but it just meant all the things he never had. For both of them, it was just a bunch of super inflated consumerism and totally unnecessary; an excuse for people who hated eachotherg to pretend everything was ok and exchange cheap gifts, without the slightest emotional value. They didn't celebrating Easter. For her, there were many hungry and cold memories in her heart that couldn't be covered and made forgotten by all those flowers and bunnies; too much blood on her hands to paint those candid, faril little eggs. For him, it was just an excuse for stores around the world to ridiculously increasing prices of his favorite sweets. They did not celebrate the 4th of July. She was Russian. And he didn't need special days to blow things up. They did not celebrate Thanksgiving, either. She hated turkey. And he hated roast beef. But despite all its reservations on parties and important dates, they shared their own little holidays; their own special days; their own annual rituals; and their own gift exchange.

So she wasn't surprised at all to find a bunch of Christmas musical card in her mailbox. It was a hellish afternoon in May when they. The kind of hell where the sun seemed to encompass New York with its heated rays and refused to let go of its inhabitants. The kind of hell that made one's air conditioner cry as it tried to make a room habitable. But just seeing them made the day a little better. He was on a mission in a classified country, serving as eyes and ears to a government agency that would only be de-classified when he returned to the comfort of her arms.

With a smile, she collected all the cards and returned into her apartment. Within the wonderfully icy confines of her room, she laid them on their bed and arranged them in the order that had been scrawled on the cover of each of the cards. The first one had a punk Santa, with his coat painted blue by thousands office pens and his reindeer made of bone, pointing to a huge ' **1'** illuminated by a star and a **'Hi, Baby Girl'** written on top of the '...and Happy New Year ' sign that previously came with it. The second on, had children on the cover. They were multiethnic now, holding hands around an equally giant **'2'** and a ' **I'm Sorry'** scrawled atop the 'Seasons Greetings'. Thousands of cut out stars covered the Virgin and Joseph on the third card and the baby Jesus had been transformed into a **'3'**. It said: **'I wanted to be there'** written with a penmenship that did not belong to Clint (It was too pretty and too well designed to be the archer's handwriting) and the last one, her personal favorites, were two angels that had been altered to look like them. Angel Natasha dressed in his battle suit, its many tricks exposed among the stars, and the angel Cint with a bow and arrow - the bow with a heart tip - pointed at her, and below, where there should be a 'Merry Christmas', was a **'4 - I love you '**.

His smile became soft and sweet and she touched each of the cards. Clint didn't know how to draw, but... He couldn't help but make ordinary things beautiful when he put his heart to them. She turned to open the first one. She expected a recorded message in the music boxes. She expected to hear Clint being charming and funny and confident. She expected to hear his promises to soon be at her side; his endless declarations of love; his laughter and his sighs.

What she didn't expect was a song.

  
 _"Take a look at this sunflower_  
 _Standing so tall_  
 _Isn't it pretty?_  
 _It started so small_  
 _But it kept growing_  
 _And it never stopped_  
  
_'Cause it's just love water and sunshine that makes it so high_  
 _It's not looking down on me, it shows me the sky_  
 _'Cause it's just love water and sunshine that makes it so high_  
 _It's not looking down on me, it shows me the sky"_

 

She gasped, as if he had justpunched in her stomach. "Damn it," She whispered, putting her hand over her mouth, as if trying to hide her smile of delight and surprise from an unknown spectator. Damn, she thought with endless love. Damn her adorable malchik and his beautiful voice that always caught her off guard. She sighed and saw that inside of the card had a message too. A message that declared that she was his sunflower and she should continue to listen to his song because he knew she got water and sun every day, but Clint was too far away to give her the love she needed so she could grow. Natasha laughed, despite herself. "Asshole" She cursed, laughing, feeling her eyes slightly teary and opened the second card.

  
 _"I know that my sunflower_  
 _Will always be there_  
 _'Cause you can't unlearn what you’ve learned what you've learned it_  
 _It stays in the air_  
 _But I keep growing_  
 _And I guess I won't stop_  
  
_'Cause it's just love water and sunshine that makes it so high_  
 _It's not looking down on me, it shows me the sky"_

  
The second card said that she was his best friend; the best person he ever met; the sunflower of his life. And it was because of her that it was all worth it. It was because of her that he lived. It was because of her that he didn't go crazy. He'd be dead if it weren't for the scarlet woman. The assassin bathed in blood. She was his Tasha and no matter what, he'd be there for here. No matter what the future might bring. His loyalty belonged to her entirely. And wherever she went, he would follow. What she needed, he would give. _I love you, bitch_ the card said. "I love you too, brat" Natasha said to the empty room, opening the third card.

 

 _"When it starts to raining_  
 _On a cold lonely day_  
 _Remember the seeds that you planted won't just go away_  
 _They grow up through the night_  
 _And it'll be alright_  
  
_So take a look at this sunflower_  
 _Standing so tall_  
 _Isn't it pretty?_  
 _It started so small_  
 _But it kept growing_  
 _And it never stopped"_

  
Clint's voice, on recording, seemed more emotional now, as if he had just realized what he was doing. It seemed more charged and while, at the same time, lighter... Somehow. There was a watery laugh in their intial notes and it proved even more apparent when she read the simple 'Thank you' written and repeated along Christmas decorations of the card and, glued in the middle, a cropped photo of a blindfolded hawk in the arm of its master. She ran her fingers through the badly glued picture, placing the tip of her index finger on the blindfold. _I trust you above all people in this world,_ he was saying. _You're the most important person in my life,_ he was saying. _You are my home,_ he was saying. _You need not fear me,_ he was saying He said all this and more, with only that bird. She smiled, her heart instantly flooded of longing and Tasha had to lean forward and kiss the breast of the her bird, aching for the real thing.

She held the third card against her heart and opened the fourth

  
 _"'Cause it's just love water and sunshine that makes it so high_  
 _It's not looking down on me, it shows me the sky_  
 _'Cause it's just love water and sunshine that makes it so high_  
 _It's not looking down on me, looking down on me, looking down on me_  
  
_...I love you, baby. I love you to the bone and then some more"_ Clint's voice concluded and she could feel his smile.

  
On the card, there were thousands of sunflowers, cut and drawn, painted carefully and quickly, all over the paper and around a single message: **'HAPPY DAY WE FIRST MET'** in big bold letters that made a huge satisfied smile bloom on her face.

She couldn't wait for him to return to her arms. She couldn't wait to kiss him for being such incredibly lovely, dorky romantic. She could not wait to bring it back to the safety of their home and have him all to herself. She couldn't wait to thank him.

She could not wait for him to receive her gift.

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii ~~<3  
> I hope you all enjoyed this fic. The song in question is "Sunflower" by Nice Peter.
> 
> Comments and kudos are love.


End file.
